Originally Posted by LotGrinder
Super 8 Hotel Mt. Pleasent, Michigan, 2003
It's Friday morning and I am up early because I have much work to do. I currently have 9 ounces of powder cocaine and I need to turn it into 12 ounces of rock cocaine. You see, I tried selling the cocaine in powder form right from the beginning. But, I was told by all the kids that I distributed it to that they needed the drug in rock format. So, I was having to sell the best cocaine on campus at a reduced price in order to get the kids to choose mine over my competitions.
All the college kids who bought the drug trusted it in rock format over powder format. They believed the rock format was less likely to be cut with additives. They were dead wrong. When I first started selling I didn't cut the drug at all. But, in order to turn the cocaine into rock format I had to follow a process that I learned from a white trash kid I met at a party.
I was out with this Alex girl who hung around a lot of loser guys. I had known her since I was 15, so I still liked to see her from time to time even though her and I had went drastically different ways. So, I am at this ****ty party where there's dudes in wife beaters having "rap battles" and I am really awestruck at the failure of the American education system watching this all go down. The nights going on and on and these guys start talking about cocaine. One of these dirt bags pulls out some and this thugged out wigger kid with the flat bill hat is like "dawg, that's all cut up, that's junk, I can tell."
This caught my ear and I walked over. I said "how can you tell that's all cut up?" He's like "dog, I know how to cut cocaine, re-rock it, all that. I know good stuff when I see it." I'm like "you know how to cut cocaine?" He's like "hell yeah." Then he starts rambling on and on about how to cut cocaine. Yeah he's drunk. Yeah he sounds like an idiot. Yeah he's white and has a flat bill baseball cap. But on the longshot that this grit actually knows what he's talking about I am data banking every step of the process in my mind. No white trash kid with a flat bill has ever had more attention from me in their life. I am consumed.
Anyway, I go to Meijer and Home Depot the next day to gather all the items needed to try his process at my condo in Trenton. To my surprise, this guys technique works like a charm. My mind is blown. I now can turn my cocaine into rock and sell it at a premium price at Central Michigan University. This is going to lead to greater profits.
So, without any further ado, this is where the story gets degen...
I take the coffee grinder. I dump in 3 ounces of cocaine and 1 ounce of creatine. I start it up and I listen to it grind as hard as "King Niche" on "Full Tilt." After the grind is complete I pull out the container and white fumes sort of drift up into my nostrils as I dump the mixed powder onto the metal plate.
I then take the mixed powder, put it in the bathroom that has a little steam in it from all the hot water I've been running and I count to thirty. I quickly take they powder that's now been slightly moistened and dump it into 4 small plastic baggies. The kind that does not have the zip lock. 1 baggie for each ounce. I then take the 4 baggies and drop them into 4 small lead pipes. I then put a 50 cent piece that fits perfectly into the top and bottom of the lead pipe. I take the c-clamp, twist, and compress both 50 cent pieces onto the powder. I twist the c-clamp as hard as I possibly can. The pressure on both sides of the powder in the pipe makes it form into a circular rock. I leave the lead pipe that's been c-clamped sit for a hour so the cocaine can harden into rock. I then release the c-clamp and take a just a bit smaller pipe and place it into the pipe that contains the baggy of cocaine that's now a rock. Now, I take a rubber head hammer and gently hammer the smaller pipe so it pushes the baggie of cocaine out onto a plate. As the baggy of cocaine falls out it's all now in rock format.
As I am nearing completion of the project I start thinking to myself about what a terrible person I have become. I had never even done drugs in high school. I swore time and time again I'd never sell cocaine because I saw the damaging effects it had on some of my friends lives. I swore I'd never sell drugs again after I almost got caught in 2001 with my friend Ryan. I even promised my Grandmother Marge I wouldn't sell drugs anymore after that.
I had opened up a business in 2002 and it failed though. It was a Cingular Wireless cell phone store and an internet cafe/gaming center. The business idea was before it's time, I didn't have enough capital to advertise, I was working 60 hour work weeks, and I was only bringing home like $2,000.00 a month. On top of that I had a girl and guy friend of mine that had invested on a small scale basis who weren't happy with the way things were going. When I decided to close the business I felt like a failure and I was determined to pay back all the people who I owed money.
So I got back into selling drugs. I got back to going up to Central Michigan University. Lots of the people who enjoyed ecstasy had moved onto cocaine, so I had to sell this drug to make the money I needed. So now, here I am, the kid who every Trenton High School teacher was rooting for to become a loser, is officially a loser. No college degree, no job, a failed business attempt, and sitting in a Super 8 hotel cutting cocaine. Grandma Marge, Papa, and Grandma would sure be proud.
I was just about to shed a tear.
Then I remembered selling cocaine had helped me pay off all my debts, gave me the $12,000 cash in one of my drawers, furnished my condo, and got me into any party I wanted to go to in Michigan. Also, not getting caught selling it allowed me to continue to stroke my criminal ego.
So, I'm about to complete my work for the day and I think to myself.
"You know what. What's the big deal about this drug anyway? Maybe I should actually try it."
Yup, that's right, in all the months of selling the drug I had never actually done it. So, I'm sitting in this hotel room by myself and I decide to chop myself out a line. I pull some money out of my pocket, I grab the twenty dollar bill. No, fukking wait, this is the first time I'm ever doing cocaine. I need a one hundred dollar bill. I run over to the drawer and pull out a nice crisp and clean one. Yeah baby.
I twist it up, place it in my right nostril, lean in towards the plate and snort that line like a champion. Wow. That felt good. Wow. I feel like I've got some important things to do. Wow. I feel like there's a party going on somewhere and of course that party needs me to be there. I start calling my friends. It's like 11am on a Friday and everyone is all hungover or sleeping from Thursday night bar night.
"Yo, what's up Jackie, you ready to party?"
Yeah, sure, later tonight we're going to hang out right?
"Yeah, for sure, but what's going on now?"
Well, I just woke up.
"Oh, Ok, well hit me up later."
I decide to call my friend Jeff.
"What's up big shooter? How did last night go with Katie?"
It's 11am, what the fukk are you calling me for bro?
"I'm ready to party."
What, shut up, I ain't ever seen you drink earlier than 10pm, stop ****ing with me. I'm going back to bed man.
He hangs up. Hmm, I'll see what my friend Tony is doing.
"Ready to party?
What?
"Lets go get some beers at the casino."
You know I don't gamble man.
"Common, you're my best friend dude. You know I am so happy to be coming up here again. You're my best friend man."
Yeah, I know I am your best friend.
"Well common, lets go get fukked up at the casino and I'll pay for everyhing."
Dude, you know I got class, I can't. You serious that you want to party this early?
"Yeah, what do you think I am a pussy?"
You high?
"Yeah."
You rolling or something?
"No. I took some cocaine."
Lol, yeah right, you'd never do that, I'll call you later man.
I'm zinging man. I feel like the world is one tight pussy and I am going to fukk it. I take a look in the mirror. Things seem to be looking good. Yeah baby, that diet has been working. Down to 190. I should take a shower and head to the casino solo operation. See what I can get going there by myself. If that don't workout I'll just drive to every party house I know on campus and something will be going on. I'm looking for action and it has to be out there. I'm so god damn high.
I take a shower, put on my best clothes, and head to The Soaring Eagle casino. Before I leave the room I take another line and I am zooted when I arrive to the casino. As I walk in I see nothing but gritty old slot machine grinders everywhere. Damn. I'm like Tom Cruise up in this casino and there's no ladies even worth my company. Oh well. Gambling is more fun than women anyway. I've got 1k on me lets see what I can get going on the roulette wheel. I buy in for $500 and proceed to lose it all within 20 minutes. As I am leaving the table I hold up my grey goose n red bull and tell the lady that was spinning...
"Best $500 cocktail I've ever had, thanks."
As I am walking away I kind of feel like I am coming down. What the fukk? When I take ecstasy the high is for 3-4 hours. It's been 20-30 minutes and I already feel like I need more of this ****. I'm such an idiot I brought nothing with me and I drive all the way back to the hotel room. This was bad for two reasons.
One, I got more cocaine. Two, I got more cash. I was down $500 and the plan now was to "martingale" back to even. I would do a $50 bet, $100, $200, $400, and then $800 would be the final bet. If I lost them all I would leave the casino. When I got back to the casino I again walked the floor looking for any moderately attractive woman I could hit on my age. I felt everything I had to say was so important and anything I was going to be doing surely some lucky lady would would want to hang out and do it with me. It was a tragedy that I didn't have a woman with me because obviously I am the coolest guy in the world.
Anyway, my "martingale" plan doesn't go so well and I end up losing 2k on this return trip to the casino. The cocaine is wearing off, my mind is starting to wonder, and I'm feeling like a real degen because all I want to do is get higher, gamble, party, ****, or find a way to end this roller coaster of a high I am on. I'm feeling so weird because it's noon on a Friday and nobody seems interesting in partying until later.
That's because they're not on my level.
They're stone cold sober.
Let this be a lesson to you. When you're sky high and fukked at 2am, 3am, 4am, or noon the next day....
Do not phone or text people that aren't on the same drug as you.
Trust me.
So, I'm feeling like a lonely loser degen drug abuser as the cocaine high is wearing off and all I want to do is go to sleep. I know that's not going to be possible without some assistance so I stop at the same Shell station I stopped at the night I firebombed the fraternity house. I end up picking up a couple packs of Excedrin Pms and head back to the hotel room.
When I get back to the room I take 3 Excedrin Pms and order up some porn. I'm real pissed because they don't have any deepthroating or gagging, so I settle on some teen porn. I try my hardest to crank one out and relax but I can't even get hard. So, I took a sick $15 beat on that one. I end up falling asleep, wake up at 11pm, and have missed 42 calls on my cell phone. This means I missed out on selling most of the cocaine I had come up there with since most dealers buy on Friday then sell throughout the weekend.
So now I am going to have to drive back down to my hometown that's 3 hours away on Sunday with a bunch of cocaine on me if I don't sell it all at a reduced price. I do end up snorting some more cocaine off a hot girls inner thigh that night and eat her pussy. That was a stupid idea because I forgot that when I was high I couldn't get hard. So, she thinks I'm all weird because I can't **** her like the whore she is and I miss out on that golden opportunity for some puss.
Ended up ducking out of that party and sneaking back to the casino where I degen off another 2k at blackjack and roulette. Came back to my hotel room and thought that I might be able to give that adult feature another try since it hadn't been 24 hours. Nope, nothing. Took another 2 Excedrin Pms, laid down, and fell asleep as I wished for better days ahead. That's the story about the first time I did cocaine.
